


Childhood Is the Kingdom Where Nobody Dies

by temporal-infidelity (gyabou)



Category: Misfits (TV 2009)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, Character Death, F/M, M/M, Multi, Not Canon Compliant, POV Outsider, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-07
Updated: 2019-04-07
Packaged: 2020-01-06 08:44:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18384971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gyabou/pseuds/temporal-infidelity
Summary: Originally posted to misfitsfics on LJ in December 2010.“Nathan Young is not the most suitable role model for impressionable young minds, but he tries.”Or:Simon and Alisha are married and have two kids, Nathan is kind of/sort of the third member of their relationship (interpret it how you will), as well as their children’s weird, never aging uncle. Shenanigans ensue.





	Childhood Is the Kingdom Where Nobody Dies

**Author's Note:**

> This weird story is still one of the top 5 favorite things I’ve ever written, and I’ve tried over the years to adapt it into an original story and get it published but it’s never been quite right. I might try again someday but until then, here it is, in its Misfitsy pre-season 3 glory.

You couldn't take Uncle Nathan seriously. Everyone knew that. They'd been raised with that saying, and it was an opinion which remained as unchanged amongst them through the years as Uncle Nathan was himself.  
  
"Your uncle," their mother said, "he doesn't know when to stop. Literally. He hasn't got any boundaries."  
  
"I don't think he knows how to be any other way, really," their dad said. "And he gets lonely sometimes. It makes him worse." He paused. "Funny how things turn out."  


 

***

  
  
They'd always known about powers, and really, it wasn't that unusual. There was Mrs Rogers down the street who could talk to cats, and the headmaster at their school, whose ears turned red when someone lied to him – an unfortunate power for an education professional to have. However, one thing that had always annoyed the two of them was that they'd didn't have any themselves.  
  
One of their favorite games had always been the Powers game. Picking which power they'd each have was a struggle. Veronica might say she'd like to run at the speed of sound, and Jake would protest that _he_ wanted that power; or Jake would say he could summon cyclones, and Veronica would say that she could summon earthquakes, which were clearly much better. It always took a long time to sort it out.  
  
One summer afternoon, they were playing Powers in the back garden and Uncle Nathan was over. He was sprawled out in a lawn chair, wearing a pair of pink plastic sunglasses which belonged to Veronica; they were too small for his face and the arms were bent outwards around his face.  
  
He put his arms behind his head. "What's your power again?" he asked Jake.  
  
"I'm made of steel!" he said eagerly.  
  
"What, literally of steel?" he said. Jake nodded. "That's a shite power. Don't tell your dad I just said 'shite'. If you're made of steel, how can you move? Can you imagine what a drag that'd be? You'd be a fuckin' statue. Don't tell your mum I just said 'fucking'." He nodded to Veronica. "What about you?"  
  
"I can breathe water," she said, suddenly overcome with a shyness which she normally didn't feel around anyone besides Uncle Nathan.  
  
He considered this for a minute, and nodded. "That's not bad," he said. "That might be pretty handy, actually. I could imagine a few uses for that." He sat up, pushing the sunglasses up onto the crown of his head, where they disappeared into the forest of his hair. He pulled a packet of cigarettes out of his t-shirt pocked and shook one out. "Now, imagine if you were goin' for a swim right," he began as he put the cigarette in his mouth and lit it up, "you're just paddlin' along, mindin' your own business, when a bunch of carnivorous squid rise to the surface of the sea and pull you down with 'em. Most people'd drown of course, but you wouldn't. Of course, then you'd be alive while they chomped down on you, but maybe you'd be able to get away ..."  
  
"Nathan!" Mum called out from the doorway. "What are you talking to the kids about? Put that cigarette out. Jesus."  
  
"Now, Alisha," he said, "don't you think it's unwise to be takin' the Lord's name in vain around your children?" Nathan turned to them and gave them an exaggerated wink, and stubbed out the cigarette on the sole of his trainer.  
  
"Shut up, Nathan," she said, rolling her eyes, but she was smiling as she turned and walked back inside.  


 

***

  
  
They never really noticed that Uncle Nathan was much younger than their parents. To children, all adults appear more or less the same age: old. It wasn't for many years that they noticed how, as Mum and Dad grew more careworn, their hair grayer, Nathan never changed. Nathan was a constant.  
  
Of course, by that time they'd already worked out what Nathan's power was, anyway.  


 

***

  
  
About six months after the day Nathan had observed them playing in the back garden, they were woken by the sound of a commotion outside.  
  
" _Fuckin' bullshit! I'm a bloody superhero! You want a magic trick, I'll show you motherfuckin' magic!_ "  
  
"Nathan!" their dad shouted, sticking his head out the window. There was a loud creaking noise, and something scraped against the outside of the house. "Nathan, stop it!"  
  
"What the _hell_ is he doing?" Mum shouted, running down the hall from the bedroom.  
  
"He's climbing up the drainpipe," Dad said. He pushed away from the window and began to run down the stairs. "He's heading up to the roof."  
  
"Oh, _God_ , that _bastard_ ," Mum said, and spied the two of them standing in their doorway. "What are you doing up?"  
  
"What's going on?" Jake asked.  
  
"Nathan!" Their father was outside now, shouting. "Nathan, get down from there right now!"  
  
" _I can fly!_ " Uncle Nathan bellowed unsteadily, and then something dark rushed past the window. There was a loud and ominous _crunch_ from the ground below.  
  
Mum sighed. "Go in your room," she said, "and do _not_ open your door. I have to go help your father."  
  
"Is Uncle Nathan okay?" Veronica asked as she shepherded them inside.  
  
"Yes," she said. "He's always okay." She closed the door.  


 

***

  
  
They didn't open the door, but they did take turns peeking through the cracks. They could faintly hear their parents cursing as they made their way upstairs, and then they slowly came down the hall, carrying something between them wrapped in a blanket. As they went past the door, Veronica saw a hand hanging from the bundle. They brought it into the spare room, the one Uncle Nathan always slept in, and shut the door and went back to bed.  
  
The next morning their father made pancakes, dishing them out as he cooked each one, and he was halfway through the batter when Nathan came down stairs, rubbing the back of his neck mournfully. "Stiff neck," he said. Veronica and Jake stared at him in horror and wonder.  
  
"Nathan," Mum said, sounding exasperated. She stood up and put an arm around his shoulders and turned him around. "Nathan, go wash up. You're a mess. You've got _blood_ in your hair."  
  
"Oh," Nathan said as she led him back upstairs. "Did I die last night? I can't remember anything."  


 

***

  
  
That afternoon they were sent out to play. There was a light dusting of snow over everything, but not much they could play with. They got bored quickly.  
  
"What are they talking about in there?" Jake asked, peering in through the kitchen window.  
  
Veronica opened the storm door carefully, so that it didn't creak, and pressed her ear against the mail slot. "I can hear 'em," she whispered.  
  
"—can't go on," their father was saying. There was silence, and for a minute they worried that they'd been noticed.  
  
Then he continued, "You know we love you, Nathan. I love you. Alisha loves you."  
  
"No, I don't, I _hate_ you," she said, her voice quavering. There was a sound like something being swatted; most likely Uncle Nathan's head.  
  
"I understand," Nathan said. "It's all right. I mean, it's not like this hasn't happened to me before. Seems like I'm always being pushed away so other people can work on their _relationships_."  
  
"Don't be a shithead," Mum said. "That's not what this is about and you know it."  
  
"This isn't about Alisha's and my relationship," Dad went on. "It's not even about the kids. The kids love you. It's about you. Nathan, you're ... you're unhappy."  
  
Nathan was silent.  
  
"It's not a crime to be sad, you know," Mum said.  
  
"Really?" Nathan mumbled. "I hear they're thinking of bringing back capital punishment expressly for the treatment of depression."  
  
"Well, you won't have to worry about that then, will you?" Mum said. "The law is powerless against you."  
  
"You'll always be welcome here, Nathan," Dad said. "We're not ... pushing you away. We just want you to get yourself sorted and ..."  
  
"And you can't here," Mum finished. "Because it's too easy not to."  
  
Nathan cleared his throat. "Well, all right," he said. "Always said I wanted to go travelin' anyway. What's the point of living forever if you don't see the world?"  


 

***

  
  
He left the next day. He had a plane ticket, and there was a cab waiting to take him to the airport.  
  
"We _will_ miss you, you know," Mum said.  
  
"We all will," Dad said.  
  
"Of course," Nathan said. "I'll be surprised if you can function without me." He laughed, a tad uncertainly. "Goodbye, little people," he said to Veronica and Jake. He walked down the front path, his rucksack over one shoulder, waving with the other hand. "Barry! Alisha! I'll send postcards!"  


 

***

  
  
They did get postcards fairly regularly for several months.  
  
From Paris: _The cheese here is fuckin' unbelievable. Pardon my French._  
  
From Spain: _Tried out bullfighting. Poor bull didn't stand a chance._  
  
From St. Petersburg: _I don't know why I came here. I'm freezing my tits off._  
  
From Japan: _I'm staring at Tokyo Tower. From far away in the dark it looks like a giant cock._  
  
"Don't read that," Mum said, and took it away.  
  
From New Mexico: _I think I could live here. If it weren't for the cockroaches and the scorpions, I mean._  
  
The final one they got was from Sydney. All it said was, _This place might be paradise, but I think I'm almost ready to go home now._  
  
After that, nothing. For weeks. Mum and Dad looked worried, but Dad only said, "He's probably just gotten distracted by something. He's got a short attention span."  
  
"I'm surprised he kept in touch with us this much," Mum replied. She looked unconvinced.  


 

***

  
  
Two months after they'd last heard from him, Nathan showed up, unannounced, at the front door. It was nearly summer again. He had a bandage over one eye.  
  
"Sorry about that," he said, "I was in hospital for a bit. Then I had a few legal problems." He grinned. "All sorted now."  
  
"What the hell happened?" Mum asked.  
  
"Well, I had a bit of a disagreement with this fellow in a bar," Nathan said, "and he sort of ... shoved a broken bottle in my eye. Messy business."  
  
"Nathan," Dad said, putting his head in his hands. It seemed like an entire universe of despair was contained in that single word.  
  
"Hey, I'm fine!" Nathan said. "Not so much the other guy. He got two years for aggravated assault." He waggled his eyebrows. Or one eyebrow, the patch kept the other one from moving much.  
  
"So ... do you really only have one eye now?" Jake asked in cautious amazement.  
  
Uncle Nathan nodded.  
  
"Like Captain Hook," Jake said.  
  
"More like Peter bloody Pan," Mum said.  
  
"Why don't you wear an eye patch like a proper pirate then?" Veronica asked.  
  
"Good question," Nathan said, and leaned over and rummaged around in his pack. He pulled out a black eye patch, just the kind pirates would wear. He put it on over the plain white patch taped over his eye. "Better now?"  
  
"Excellent," Jake said eagerly.  
  
"All right, guys," Mum said. "I think Uncle Nathan's a bit tired now. Why don't you go play upstairs while we talk?"  
  
At the top of the stairs Veronica stopped short and pulled Jake back, and they peered over the landing. They could just see their parents and Nathan standing in the kitchen. Mum was hugging Nathan. Dad had a hand on his shoulder.  
  
"You haven't changed at all, have you?" Mum said.  
  
"Actually," Nathan said, kissing both of them quickly, "I have changed a bit."  


 

***

  
  
It took some convincing, but that weekend Nathan took the two of them to the cinema. It was a great afternoon. He showed them how to stretch gummy worms to their fullest extent and then let them shoot forward onto unsuspecting people. "This is why your parents didn't want me to take you out," he said with glee. When the ushers came in to investigate he put on a serious adult face, difficult as it was as he'd also just shoved the last of the gummy evidence in his mouth.  
  
"Now don't breathe a word about all that when we get home, all right?" Nathan said as they left the cinema and began to cross the street. "Give me your word!"  
  
"We promise!" they both said, but Nathan suddenly wasn’t paying attention. He was looking down the road, a look of concentration and concern on his face. They looked up. There was a car racing towards them.  
  
"Fuck!" he shouted, and pulled the two of them aside and threw them towards the pavement. Then the car plowed into his body. He tumbled over the bonnet and the roof and landed on the road behind the car, which was shrieking to a halt.  
  
Then it all became chaos. People were crouched around Uncle Nathan's body; an ambulance was called; a lady pulled them aside asked them if Nathan was their father, and another told her not to be daft, he couldn't be more than a teenager, he must be their older brother. They were asked for their parents' phone number. Calls were made.  
  
Three hours later they were sitting in the waiting room of the A&E with their mother, while she flipped through a magazine. The door to the trauma unit opened and their father came through, followed by Uncle Nathan, who was in the process of trying to rip his hospital bracelet off with his teeth. Veronica and Jake couldn't help but stare at him. It wasn't just that they'd seen him broken and bloodied on the ground a few hours before. It was also that he suddenly had two eyes again.  
  
"Are you really all right?" their mother asked.  
  
"Yeah," Nathan said, still worrying the plastic wristband. "Fuckin' lack of depth perception. Well, won't have that problem anymore."  


 

***

  
  
In the car ride back, Nathan sat in the middle of the backseat, a kid on either side of him.  
  
"Check it out," he said, reaching inside his jean pockets and holding out a closed fist to each of them. "Guess what's inside."  
  
"Don't look," Mum said, "it's probably something _disgusting_."  
  
"I beg your pardon," Nathan said, and flipped his hands open. There was a sherbet lemon resting in each palm.  
  
"Oh yeah, how long have you had those in your pockets?" Mum asked.  
  
"For your information, I bought 'em at the cinema," he said, as the kids devoured the candy. "I just forgot about it what with all the ... dyin', and such." There was an uncomfortable silence.  
  
"Thank you, Nathan," Dad said suddenly. "Really, we can't thank you enough."  
  
Nathan shrugged. "All in a day's work for me," he said airily. "And anyway, you lot, you're ... well ... you're my family. I guess. Are you?"  
  
"Yes," Mum said firmly. "We are."  
  
"Well then," Nathan said, laughing and spreading his arms out along the backs of the seats. "What do you know? Thirty-eight years old and I've finally settled down!"  
  
"Yeah, but you don't look a day over twenty," Dad said, and smiled.


End file.
